Marry Her Idol

"Step right this way, folks. Welcome to the subterranean exhibition dedicated to the renowned General Kaelen Vane," the tour guide announced. He waved a bright yellow flag, guiding the bustling crowd toward the arched stone entrance of the underground chamber.

Liora Adler paused at the threshold, a profound sense of reverence washing over her. As a seasoned special forces medic, she had seen plenty of action and met her fair share of decorated officials. She never paid mind to modern celebrities or slick politicians. She reserved her deep respect for genuine heroes, the warriors who actually bled for their people. Kaelen Vane stood firmly at the top of that list.

According to the historical texts she had memorized, Kaelen served as the supreme commander of the Aethelgard Kingdom. He led his loyal forces to countless victories, pushing back advancing enemy lines and securing the kingdom's borders time and time again.

His unbroken streak of triumphs planted dark seeds of paranoia in his ruler's mind. The king grew fearful of Kaelen's rising influence among the people and the army. Ultimately, the crown stripped the great general of his hard-earned titles, confiscated his assets, and banished him to the unforgiving wastelands.

Liora tuned back into the tour guide's passionate recounting of the general's grueling campaigns. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, echoing softly in the dimly lit hall.

'He was simply born in the wrong era,' she mused to herself, tracing the brass edge of a glass display case housing a rusted, battle-worn broadsword. 'If Kaelen had managed to survive just a few more years, if he had outlasted the paranoid old king and waited for the new monarch to take the throne, his name would have been cleared. He would have received the ultimate vindication and the glory he deserved.'

Fate had proven incredibly cruel. The history books recorded his tragic end with brutal clarity. He perished on the harsh, muddy road of exile, broken and disgraced.

A sudden, massive jolt snapped Liora from her somber reverie. The solid stone floor beneath her boots shifted with terrifying force.

"Run! It's an earthquake!" a panicked tourist yelled, his voice cracking with terror.

Dust rained from the vaulted ceiling in thick, choking clouds. Display cases shattered in a cacophony of breaking glass, spraying sharp fragments across the tiles. The ground buckled beneath their feet, sending people tumbling to the floor amid frantic, echoing screams.

With her extensive tactical training, Liora identified the safest exit route in a fraction of a second. She could have easily sprinted out of the collapsing chamber without a single scratch. Instead, she rushed toward a trapped mother and her young child, bracing her shoulders against a falling stone pillar to buy them precious seconds.

"Go! Get out of here!" Liora shouted, pushing them toward the fleeing crowd.

The structural integrity of the ancient room finally gave way. A massive slab of the ceiling crashed down upon her. The crushing impact stole the breath from her lungs in an instant. Darkness rushed in to claim her.

As her vision dimmed and the screams faded into a dull roar, a faint, peaceful smile graced her lips. The agonizing pain quickly numbed.

"This isn't so bad," she murmured into the settling dust, her voice barely a whisper. "At least I get to rest in peace here, right next to my hero."

***

Loud, rhythmic music assaulted Liora's ears, pulling her from the suffocating void. Fiddles screeched alongside the blaring notes of traditional shawms. Bright crimson banners snapped in the wind against towering, unfamiliar stone walls.

She blinked against the glaring sunlight pouring through stained glass windows. Her limbs felt heavy and uncoordinated. She felt like a wooden puppet, propped up and guided by unseen hands through a suffocating, joyous crowd.

"I, Liora Adler," she mumbled, the foreign words tumbling from her mouth on sheer instinct, "take thee, Kaelen Vane, to my wedded husband, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit."

"By this pledge, bound as one." The officiant's voice rang out across the courtyard, solemn and unyielding.

Cheers erupted from every corner. Liora's head was still spinning, but that didn't stop her from getting lost in the sudden flood of memories crashing into her consciousness. She tuned out the deafening applause and the eager well-wishers, withdrawing deep into her own turbulent mind.

As she sorted through the chaotic influx of memories, she had to face the impossible truth. She had traveled through time. And not just anywhere. She had landed right in the delicate shoes of her historical idol's new bride, the legendary hero Kaelen Vane.

The original Liora was the eldest daughter of Tobias Adler, the stern and powerful minister of the Ministry of Coinage. She had been bound to Kaelen by an ironclad engagement since they were little kids playing in the royal gardens.

The Vane family commanded immense respect, backed by a long history of unwavering loyalty. Every single male heir had bled and died for the Aethelgard Kingdom. Now, Kaelen stood as the very last of his storied bloodline.

Five years ago, when his last remaining brother fell in a bloody border skirmish, Kaelen was only sixteen. Despite his youth, he took command of the fractured army and shouldered the immense responsibility of caring for a massive household filled with grieving widows.

Now that he had returned victorious from the northern campaign, his formidable mother Helena was already planning his wedding. The family desperately needed an heir to secure their legacy.

The original Liora harbored a fierce determination to call off the wedding. After all, every Vane man seemed cursed, doomed to die young on a muddy battlefield. She flatly refused to end up like the other weeping women in the Vane family, spending the rest of her life locked away as a miserable widow.

She kicked up a massive fuss, smashing fine china and throwing bitter tantrums. She tried every trick she could conjure to get out of the arrangement, but her father Tobias was a man of his unbending word. No matter how hard she pushed back, he refused to give in and break the sacred pact.

Pushed to the brink of a public scandal, Tobias and his wife Celine resorted to slipping her potent sedatives. They believed that once everything was official and the vows were spoken, their rebellious daughter would just have to live with her new reality.

They must have miscalculated the dosage, because the original Liora took her final breath right there in the swaying carriage on the way to the wedding. That tragic moment was exactly when the modern medic's soul took up residence in the vacant shell.

A nagging question puzzled Liora. In all the extensive history she knew and studied, no scholar or text had ever mentioned Kaelen having a wife. Not even up to the bitter time he was exiled and left to die.

'Could it be that the original Liora died in the carriage before the ceremony in my original timeline too?' she wondered, her brow furrowing beneath her heavy silk veil. 'Maybe that's why history never mentioned her existence at all.'

Liora was so deeply lost in thought that she barely noticed the boisterous noise outside the withdrawing chamber growing significantly louder. Tessa, her loyal maid, leaned close and gave her arm a gentle, urgent nudge.

"Lady Liora, Lord Kaelen is here," Tessa whispered.

Liora answered with a quiet, distracted "Mm."

A crowd of laughing relatives ushered Kaelen into the withdrawing chamber. His thick crimson wool cloak was securely fastened at his broad shoulder with a gleaming silver brooch shaped like a howling wolf.

A breathless servant quickly appeared in the open doorway. "Your Grace, it is time to greet the honored guests in the great hall. They are all eagerly waiting to meet your new lady."

His lively sisters-in-law chimed in, crowding around his towering frame.

"Kaelen, come now. Everyone is eager to meet your beautiful bride," one coaxed with a warm grin.

"That's right, Kaelen. No need to be shy now. Step forward," another added, gently pushing his solid back.

He took a slow, deep breath, his chest expanding beneath his dark formal tunic. He stepped in, his heavy boots thudding against the wooden floorboards, coming to a precise stop directly in front of Liora.

Liora instinctively tilted her chin up to look at him. He was tall, standing around six feet one, with an undeniably commanding presence. His broad shoulders and strong athletic build radiated a dangerous power.

His facial features were sharp and flawlessly defined. His face was almost too handsome, bearing a striking resemblance to the regal portrait she had scrutinized so often in the museum. With his unsmiling, stoic expression and those deep, piercing dark eyes, he radiated a deeply intimidating aura.

'This is how a legendary hero should look,' Liora thought to herself, her heart executing a sudden, erratic flutter against her ribs.

Just as she was lost in her admiration, Kaelen broke the silence. His voice carried a cold, dismissive edge. "What are you staring at?"

Liora snapped back to reality. She blinked, suddenly realizing she had zoned out and stared at him like a starstruck fool. Meeting his deep, piercing gaze head-on, defensive defiance flared hot in her chest. She blurted, "Well, I am checking you out. And frankly, you are nothing special."

It wasn't that she didn't respect his battlefield prowess. But with a room full of people watching their every move, Kaelen hadn't shown her an ounce of respect. He addressed her like an annoying subordinate. She didn't see any logical reason to go out of her way to suck up to him.

Noticing the sudden, crackling tension between the newlyweds, Kaelen's eldest sister-in-law Cora quickly stepped in, her hands raised to smooth things over. "Kaelen, Liora, you two literally just got married. Let us not fight here in front of everyone. Let's go greet the guests so you can properly enjoy the night."

Elsie, his other sister-in-law, eagerly chimed in to break the ice. "That's right. Do not waste precious time bickering in here. I simply cannot wait to see how cute your future baby is going to be."

Even with her pragmatic modern attitude, Liora felt a sudden, fierce heat rushing to her cheeks. She was blushing at their blatant teasing. In her previous life, she had remained strictly single for twenty-four years, her mind singularly focused on serving her country. She never once imagined she would end up navigating a forced marriage, let alone a situation this embarrassing.

She lowered her head quickly, letting the delicate shadows of her intricate hairstyle hide her flushed face, hoping no one would notice her sudden bashfulness.

That only made things worse. Mabel, the widow of Kaelen's youngest brother, reached out and clasped Liora's hands.

"Do not fret, Liora," Mabel said, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "Once you get used to us, you will see we are just messing with you. We mean no harm."

Liora stiffened her spine and raised her chin. "I am not shy."

Before the women could press the issue, rapid footsteps echoed down the stone corridor. A breathless palace messenger skidded to a halt outside the open door.

"Lord Kaelen!" the messenger gasped. "His Majesty commands your immediate presence at the palace. It is urgent."

The blood drained from Liora's face. Her stomach twisted into a tight, agonizing knot.

Kaelen gave a curt nod, his expression hardening. He turned on his heel, his crimson cloak billowing behind him, and strode out of the chamber without a backward glance.

Liora spun around, her fingers digging into her maid's arm.

"Tessa," Liora demanded, her voice tight with panic. "What year is it right now? What is the exact date?"

Tessa blinked, confusion masking her features. "Lady Liora, did you really forget your own wedding day? It is July eighth in the nineteenth year of King Osric."

"Oh, no," Liora muttered, the words slipping out as a horrified whisper.

Watching Kaelen disappear down the long corridor, she knew the dates aligned flawlessly with the darkest chapter of her historical knowledge. Tonight was the fateful night King Osric would summon his greatest general under the guise of an urgent meeting. The paranoid king would accuse Kaelen of sneaking into the royal private quarters. The punishment would be swift and brutal—one hundred merciless lashes from a spiked whip, tearing the flesh from his back.

By tomorrow dawn, the king would officially brand Kaelen a traitor. The crown would seize the Vane family's assets, strip their noble titles, and banish them all to the desolate frontiers. The path to his agonizing death would begin tonight.

She could not let that happen. Now that she was here, she would do whatever it took to keep her hero alive.

She sprang up, ignoring her shaky legs and the confused, shocked looks from her sisters-in-law. Grabbing the heavy layers of her silk wedding skirt, she ran after him.